It's been weeks, mate
by littlegreenfish
Summary: Takes place a month after "Though Art to Me a Delicious Torment." Jefferson hasn't wanted to sleep together since he and Killian accidentally went public with their relationship. Killian intends to change that and ends up getting more than he bargained for. Mostly PWP.


"_I won't love you."_

"_Good."_

It had been over a week since they'd come to terms with the fact that they were likely cursed to be together for the rest of their lives. It was all that bitch's fault—the evil queen. The spell had been her idea.

Binding the Mad Hatter and Captain Hook together to keep them out of trouble?

Great in theory.

Great in practice, even.

Jefferson was too worried about being a good father to get into any trouble, and without the hatter's help, Killian couldn't get out enough to stir up any mischief of his own.

On top of that, they spent too much time arguing to get anything done. Well, Killian didn't get anything done. He just got _grumpy_ (that's what Jefferson called it) and _sulked_ (again, Jefferson's choice of words) all day while Jefferson doted on his daughter and did dishes and cooked dinner and all sorts of dumb domestic things.

At least, that was how things had been before they'd started fucking. After that, there had been a lot less arguing. Killian had almost forgotten how unhappy he was by the time that he and Jefferson had been stuck together for almost a year. Almost forgotten that he still needed to kill the crocodile.

One very important thing had kept their strange, not-quite-right, sex-life going: it had been a secret. No one could know that sometimes Killian pulled Jefferson in by his scarf and kissed him senseless after Grace got on the school bus.

No one could know that Jefferson hand-washed Killian's jeans to make sure that the washing machine wouldn't wear them down too fast, and they'd still hug Killian's ass the way that he liked.

That had all fallen through when Jefferson kissed him in The Rabbit Hole. Everyone saw. Pictures were taken. The next morning—how had they even gotten home?— they'd fought. They'd fought _a lot_.

That's when Killian had declared that he'd never love Jefferson. Not ever. That was fine, Jefferson had said. **Good**.

It was fine with Killian, too. The problem was that it had brought their sex life to a screeching halt, and Jefferson fucking him senseless had been the only thing keeping him sane in Storybrooke. Things had to change.

Killian only had one hand, for fuck's sake. Masturbating in the shower could only take him so far. It wasn't as if he could go and find some lost princess or mermaid or werewolf or whatever the hell the women of Storybrooke were. He could barely get more than two-hundred feet away from Jefferson before he felt like he was dying. Damn curse.

He was trapped. He was trapped, and it was suffocating. Jefferson probably wasn't feeling much better. If anything, Killian suspected, he was feeling worse. Regina still texted them pictures from The Rabbit Hole from time to time, just to remind them that everyone knew they were fucking.

Jefferson didn't deal well with vulnerability. Neither did Killian. But that didn't mean they couldn't fuck, right? At first, Killian had been willing to give Jefferson his space until they both became somewhat comfortable with the idea that everyone in Storybrooke knew that they were more than just two-sort-of-villains-who-Regina-had-cursed-with-some-dumb-ass-spell.

But it had been a month. A **month**. Killian couldn't take it any longer.

It was 36 days after declaring their mutual lack of love that Killian decided he was going to seduce Jefferson. There was no other option. It was that or celibacy, and Killian _refused_ to be celibate.

Throughout breakfast, Killian remained fixated on Jefferson, plotting out what he was going to do after Grace left for school. As soon as Jefferson's daughter was out the door, Killian's gaze was on Jefferson's ass as he did the dishes.

"Any big plans for today?"

"I was thinking of cleaning the kitchen." Jefferson shrugged and dried the last plate. "It's that or stage a mutiny against Regina and the Charmings, but I feel that my mop and broom are more suited to the indoors."

Killian chuckled and stood, walking up to the other man while he was still at the sink.

"That won't take all day, will it?" He asked, squeezing Jefferson's hip, breath ghosting over the back of the other man's neck.

"No, it w—Killian." Jefferson tensed up as soon as the other man made physical contact. "I'm busy."

"It looks to me like the dishes are done." Killian murmured, planting a few soft kisses just under the brunette's ear. "It's been weeks, mate."

Jefferson's knuckles were white as he clutched the edge of the countertop.

"It was a mistake. We don't have to do this. If we keep doing it, we'll have another fight. I'll have to go to the hospital again. I—"

Jefferson's mouth was running on excuses, and Killian wasn't going to have any of that. Maybe it had been a mistake—most of what they'd done together amounted to mistakes—but it had happened.

"What are you afraid of? It's nothing we haven't done before." Killian nuzzled the scarf Jefferson had chosen for the day, his hand rubbing gentle circles on his hip. As long as Jefferson stayed calm, they'd be okay.

It wasn't because he cared, but Killian didn't want Jefferson to have an episode. He just didn't have time for it. That was all. The last time he'd had to go to the hospital with Jefferson, he hadn't been _afraid_ for the other man. He'd just been concerned that it was taking up so much time.

He didn't care about Jefferson.

That would be ridiculous.

"It's not like before." Jefferson wasn't pulling away, but he also wasn't responding as Killian tugged his scarf down and started kissing his neck in earnest. "People _know_ now."

"Letting me blow you isn't going to change that." Killian whispered, reaching around Jefferson's waist to fiddle with the zipper on his jeans. "Jefferson, I—"

"I don't know, Killian." Jefferson gripped the other man's hand, effectively stopping the pirate from reaching into his pants. "It doesn't feel the same."

"I disagree. _You_ feel just the same." Killian moved slightly so that he was holding Jefferson's hand in earnest, his chin on the other man's shoulder, their bodies pressed together.

"You know that's not what I meant." At the very least, Jefferson was starting to relax, and he slowly moved his other hand back so that it was resting on Hook's leg. "I don't…"

"You haven't relaxed since the Rabbit Hole. Not for a second." Killian's cock was very interested in how close they were. He didn't want to keep waiting. He wanted Jefferson to calm the fuck down so they could have sex.

Jefferson didn't respond.

"Come on." Killian persisted, pushing his hips forward slightly and delighting in the way that Jefferson swallowed hard and _almost_ pushed back against him. "…take a break. Take a shower. _With me_."

"I…" Jefferson bit his lip, and Killian bit Jefferson's neck. "Fine—fine!"

"Fantastic." Killian grinned and pulled away, not letting go of Jefferson's hand as he started walking backwards out of the kitchen and towards the staircase. His heart was racing, which was stupid because they hadn't even done anything yet.

But he hadn't seen Jefferson smile—really smile—at him for over a month, and the way that the other man's eyes were on Killian and only Killian was making more than his cock get excited.

At the bottom of the stairs, he pulled Jefferson in and let the other man push him up against the banister, their mouths crashing together for the first time in too fucking long.

"I missed you." Killian breathed out, shoving his hips forward, his fingers tangled in Jefferson's hair. It was getting a little long on the top—he needed to get it cut.

"I'm right here." Jefferson whispered back, his voice an octave lower than it had been in the kitchen.

"Indeed you are." Killian shoved his tongue into Jefferson's mouth, acutely aware that he could feel Jefferson's cock through his pants.

At some point, they started making it (slowly) up the stairs and to Jefferson's bedroom. Taking a shower together had at some point been forgotten completely—but from experience Killian knew that it would probably happen once they'd finished.

As Killian tried to pin Jefferson up against the bedroom door, the other man grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back, their gazes locked and their lips swollen from what had to have been at least a half an hour of slightly-uncomfortable making out on the stairs.

"You want to do this?" Jefferson asked. His eyes were narrowed, and Killian let out a frustrated moan as the other man licked his lips.

Killian frowned, his hand on Jefferson's waist. "_Obviously_." He growled, uncomfortably hard. Jeans, he'd found as he made himself familiar with the land without magic, were only so forgiving when it came to raging erections.

"If we do this, then you listen to me." Jefferson grabbed Killian's chin. "You do what I say."

Normally when they fucked, everything that they did was completely mutual. It didn't matter who was putting whose cock where. They listened to each other. They learned each other's limits. They still knew each other's limits. Jefferson was asking for control?

Killian had pushed his cock into Jefferson's pretty mouth enough times to know that an hour of feigned powerlessness would pay off in the end the next time that he caught Jefferson fingering himself in the shower. Then it would be his turn.

"Aye. I can do that." He agreed, pushing his hips forward and hoping that they'd finally make it to the bedroom. "Do your worst, hatter."

Jefferson just rolled his eyes, opened the door, and shoved Killian onto the bed.

The pirate propped himself up on his elbows and watched, happy and content for the moment, as Jefferson undressed. It was barely ten in the morning, and he was already covered in layers. Sometimes Killian was the one to peel all of them off, but on other occasions Jefferson didn't want to risk Killian damaging his clothes.

First the jacket came off. It wasn't even that cold in the house—why was he wearing the jacket? Then the vest, then the scarf, then finally Jefferson was unbuttoning his shirt.

While he waited, Killian pulled off the v-neck he'd been wearing and pushed down his jeans and underwear, stripped bare in front of the hatter. Ready for the other man to join him, he leaned back and waited for Jefferson to finish undressing and get on top of him.

Instead, the hatter walked up to the bed, his thumbs in the belt loops of his pants.

"On your knees. In your mouth. Now." He whispered.

For a split-second, Killian hesitated. It wasn't because he was nervous, which would have been hilarious, it was because he was surprised. He'd had a lot of sex with Jefferson, but he'd never seen Jefferson sound—or look—quite so…so…Killian wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that he liked it.

Reaching forward, making eye contact, he unbuttoned and unzipped the other man's pants, pulling his cock out. The hatter was rock-hard, and Killian was vaguely embarrassed with the way that he'd suddenly started salivating. In a quick move, he moved from the bed onto his floor so that he was kneeling in front of the other man.

He felt the brunette's fingers in his hair, and moved forward wrap his lips around the cock in front of him. A low moan from Jefferson was his reward, and immediately started to move his head.

He'd been considering jerking off, but his hand stilled a few inches from his arousal with Jefferson's next words.

"Don't touch yourself. Not until I let you." Jefferson pushed his hips forward, and Killian gagged a little around the other man's length.

Pulling back to breathe, Killian dragged his tongue up the other man's cuck, suckling at the head of it and shifting uncomfortably as he thought about how it would feel between his legs. That had to be where this was going. Jefferson was going to fuck him.

It had been over a month. He'd be tight, and it would hurt, and he already _needed_ it.

"Do you remember the first time you blew me?" Jefferson whispered, pushing past Killian's lips again and starting to shallowly—not quite enough to choke him—fuck his mouth. "I barely even had to ask. Didn't even have to beg. You just took it."

Killian, refusing to acknowledge that what Jefferson was saying should have been humiliating, let out a low groan and swallowed as Jefferson's cock neared the back of his throat with a deeper thrust.

"It was like that the first time I fucked you, too. Remember that? It was over the hood of my car. Anyone could have driven by and seen. You loved it."

Killian desperately wanted to reply, to offer some sarcastic remark in his defense, but Jefferson wasn't letting him pull back and he hadn't _tasted_ Jefferson in weeks and he, as difficult as it was to admit, didn't want Jefferson to stop talking. Every word that came out of the hatter's mouth was making him harder.

Jefferson yanked back Killian's head by his hair. "Use your hand. Make me come onto your face."

"I don't th—"

"_Killian_." Jefferson growled.

Killian almost came then and there, but resisted as he glanced away from the other man's face. Reaching out, he started jerking the other man's cock—wet from precum and Killian's mouth—and licked his lips, his mouth uncomfortably empty after what he'd been doing.

He could feel how tense Jefferson was, and knew that it wouldn't be long before the other man peaked. Glancing up, he saw that Jefferson was staring. The other man hadn't looked at him so intently in a long time, and it brought color to his cheeks. Focusing instead on the other man's cock, which he continued to move his hand over, he parted his lips and shifted slightly. The throbbing between his legs was nearly unbearable.

Breath hitching, Jefferson's grip on Killian's hear tightened, and he arched his back. His free hand was at his own mouth, biting down hard on his index finger to stifle the noises he was making. Killian didn't like that. He wanted Jefferson to be loud.

He didn't just want to see the other man come, he wanted to _hear—_

"Tell me that you want it." Jefferson whispered, the hand at his mouth moving down to still Killian's fingers.

"That I want what, mate?" Killian asked, giving the hatter's cock a gentle squeeze.

"That you want me to come on you." The other man's voice was low and quiet, and Killian swore to himself that he'd make the other man scream before the night was through.

"I…" Killian was hard, and aching, but it took a few moments to force the words to his mouth. This—not submitting because he'd never, ever do that, but _indulging_ Jefferson's need to be in control for a little while—went against the image that he'd built up for himself since becoming a pirate. "Come on me." He eventually said, voice nearly faltering as he continued. "I…I want you to come on me."

Jefferson moaned outright. "Cross your arms behind your back, and tell me what else you want me to do to you." He whispered. Killian did as he was told, and Jefferson—still firmly holding Killian by the hair with one hand—started jerking himself off. Killian stayed silent for the first few seconds, a little mortified by Jefferson's request, but equally turned on by it. "**Tell me.**" The other man growled, and Killian's mouth became undone.

"I want you to come on my face—I want to taste it." He wasn't looking at Jefferson—couldn't quite manage that—but he kept talking, his own voice down to a whisper. "And then…" A pause, because he didn't like saying it _out loud_. "I want you to fuck me."

Apparently, that had been what Jefferson wanted to hear because a few seconds after that he was coming hard onto Killian's mouth and chin, spurts of cum hitting the pirate's parted lips. As he came, he grunted out some intelligible combination of curses mixed with Killian's name, and the pirate nearly came.

The next thing that he knew, Jefferson was down on his knees and pulling Killian into an open-mouthed kiss, tasting himself on the pirate's lips, tongue moving over his chin and cheeks as he cleaned up the mess he'd made.

Killian groaned and clutched at the hatter, letting out an unintentional cry as the other man grabbed his crotch without warning and squeezed hard.

"_You're_ the one bound to _me_." He growled, starting to kiss Killian's neck. "That makes you _mine_. I'm not yours, but you're mine."

If he hadn't been so hard that he was almost seeing starts, Killian would have spat out a retort and punched Jefferson in the face. Instead, he was clutching desperately at Jefferson and pulling him down, not caring that they were on the floor and not the bed.

"Aye, aye—whatever you say, _fuck_, Jefferson—" The words tumbled out of Killian's mouth as Jefferson kicked off his pants and moved so that he was straddling the pirate.

"Do you want to come?" He whispered, wrapping his fingers around Killian's leaking cock and starting to slowly—too fucking slowly—move his hand.

"_Obviously_!" Killian hissed, arching his back against the carpet.

"That wasn't very polite." Jefferson chastised the other man, squeezing the base of his cock and earning a frustrated, choked sound from the man underneath him.

"Yes, I want to come." Killian growled, voice low but clear as he locked gazes with Jefferson.

"I thought so." Jefferson let go and let his index finger trail along the underside of Killian's cock. "Do you know what _I_ want, Mr. Jones?"

"_Captain_ Jones." Killian breathed out, wincing as Jefferson gave his nipple an unnecessarily hard pinch.

"I want you to come, too." The hatter whispered, shifting and moving down so that he could drag his tongue up Killian's chest to the red, swollen nub. "…but not until I'm inside of you."

Killian whimpered, and was relieved when Jefferson didn't comment on the sound.

"Can you do that?" Jefferson asked, gripping Killian's hips hard and giving his nipple a gentle bite. "Can you hold on that long?"

"I could do this all day." Killian growled back, trying not to think about how if Jefferson so much as brushed against his cock, he was definitely going to come.

"Good." Jefferson breathed out, standing and gesturing towards the mattress. "Get on your back. I'll get the lube."

Standing, Killian took the opportunity to stretch his back and neck before settling down on the bed, watching as Jefferson vanished into the bathroom and came back with a half-empty bottle of lube. Swallowing hard in anticipation, the pirate spread his legs and met Jefferson's gaze, an eyebrow cocked.

The hatter knelt between his legs, not breaking eye contact as he spread a liberal amount of the viscous liquid onto his fingers.

"You were right about before." The hatter whispered, and Killian tilted his head to the side in response, unsure what the other man was referring to. "It's been _weeks_."

Reaching down, Jefferson rubbed two fingers between Killian's legs. The pirate bit down hard on his lower lip and pushed down, turning slightly to bury face in the crook of the elbow of his bad arm, his fingers busy digging into the sheets.

He was glad he hadn't thought to put on his hook that morning. There hadn't been a point, lately. What was he going to do with it around the house? It was easier to leave it off, _especially_ on days when he and Jefferson fucked.

"It's been weeks." Jefferson repeated, pushing in the first finger. "…it's been weeks—you're going to be so tight." He kept talking as a second finger went in. "You're going to feel so good—" Jefferson hesitated, and Killian from experience knew why.

Jefferson was wrestling with whether or not he wanted to say things that were absolutely _filthy. _Killian hoped he'd get over himself and keep going. Trying to encourage the other man, he let out a loud moan and pushed down against his fingers.

"You're going to feel so good on my cock." Jefferson whispered, only sounding minimally horrified with what he was saying. When Killian's response was to bite down hard enough on his arm to almost break the skin in an attempt not to cry out (it failed) Jefferson seemed to gain confidence about his choice of words.

"_Yes_." Killian breathed out, moving against Jefferson's fingers and shuddering when they rubbed against his prostate. "_Jefferson_—"

A smirk on his lips, Jefferson gripped Killian by the hip to keep him from moving too much, starting to fuck the pirate with his fingers—three of them now. Killian had forgotten what it felt like to have someone else's fingers in him.

When he did it for himself in the shower, it never lasted long. It was too awkward to follow through with when he couldn't jerk himself off at the same time. Damn hand. Jefferson's fingers were long, and talented, and just _fuck. Wow. Shit._

It hurt more than he'd thought, but after over a month, that was to be expected. Jefferson was right—it was bound to be mind-blowing for the hatter. Jefferson stopped moving his hand and Killian almost complained, until he realized that the other man had only stopped to add a fourth finger and start stretching him in earnest.

Stifling the more embarrassing noises that his body was urging him to make, Killian brought up his knees slightly and drew in a deep, shuddering breath. The calm that he was trying to maintain shattered when Jefferson moved down and dragged his tongue along the shaft of his cock, stopping at the head and briefly taking it past his lips.

Killian tried to hold back, he really did. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself and come before Jefferson was in him after he'd sworn that he could wait. Instead, as soon as Jefferson's tongue made contact with the head of his cock, he was coming hard into the other man's mouth.

His orgasm was stronger than he'd anticipated, and Killian found himself grabbing onto the back of Jefferson's head for leverage and holding on until he was finished. Jefferson, for his part, didn't try to pull away and let Killian ride out his orgasm.

Once he had control over his actions again, Killian slowly let go of Jefferson's hair and stared down at the other man, tense. He had, after all, been told very clearly that he wasn't meant to come until the other man was inside him. He'd also agreed that what they were doing was about what Jefferson wanted. He wasn't sure how the hatter was going to handle the captain coming so soon.

Pulling back, Jefferson licked his lips and sat up so that he was again kneeling between Hook's legs, leaning over the pirate so that they were face to face.

"You shouldn't have done that." He whispered. Killian swallowed hard, and tried to will away how fast his heart was beating and how he was already feeling like he was on the way to getting hard again. "I told you not to. You told me that you could wait."

"My apologies, mate." Killian laughed, trying to brush it off. "We all make mistakes."

He couldn't hide his surprise when Jefferson grabbed his chin and forced the pirate to make eye contact. If his heart hadn't been racing before, now it certainly was. Killian had never seen Jefferson look so—assertive? Aggressive? Killian didn't know what to call it, but in that moment all that he wanted was for Jefferson to push his face into the pillow and fuck him so hard that he forgot he was in Storybrooke.

Not that he'd ever, ever admit that to the other man. Not without another blow job _at least_.

"I'm not going to fuck you until you've made up for it."

Jefferson was good enough not to mention how much Killian liked being penetrated. It was something that they'd—mutually—learned, but not something that Killian was comfortable admitting unless he was about two seconds away from orgasm.

Pulling out his fingers (Killian whined) and sitting up, Jefferson moved so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Come here." He whispered, voice low and rough with arousal, his cock half-hard between his legs.

Not sure what the other man had in mind, Killian did as he was told and moved so that he was sitting next to Jefferson, leaning in for a kiss because he wasn't sure what else he was supposed to do. For a few seconds, he thought he was right.

Jefferson leaned into the pirate, opened his mouth against Killian's, kissed him senseless for a few blissful minutes while Killian completely recovered from his orgasm and decided that, oh yes, he was going to get hard again.

Then, without warning, Jefferson pulled the captain down so that he was over the hatter's lap.

More confused than anything, Killian tensed and glanced up over his shoulder.

"Mate?" He questioned, unsure of the other man's intentions until the hatter landed a sudden, stinging slap on his backside. He cried out in surprise. "The fuck are you doing!"

Jefferson paused before he responded, looking as haughty and proud as a queen. An ironic choice of words on Killian's part, considering the hatter's response.

"It's what _she_ would have done." He whispered, and Killian's cock jumped to attention at the thought of Cora, because there was no one else the hatter could be talking about. They normally didn't talk about her. Killian thought about fucking her a lot, but Wonderland and the Queen of Hearts sent Jefferson into anxiety attacks too easily for Cora to ever come up in daily conversation.

The idea of _Cora_ bending him over—hitting him like this—was more than just an idea. It had happened in the past, before her death, and left Killian unable to sit comfortably for _days_.

Not wanting the hatter to see how pleased he was with the idea (though he was certain Jefferson could feel it, considering that his cock was pressing against the other man's leg) he comfortably buried his face in the crook of his elbow and fell silent.

"That's what I thought." Jefferson sounded smug. Killian wanted to say something to wipe the smirk off of his face, but considering that the other man's fingers had been up his ass minutes before stopped him from questioning the other man's pride. As he was deciding to keep his mouth shut, Jefferson landed another hard hit to his ass and he let out another harsh cry.

"Fuck!" It wasn't as if he couldn't deal with pain—but being spanked over the mad hatter's lap wasn't something that could be compared to combat. Earlier that day (and in other encounters with Jefferson) he'd been very adamant against enjoying this kind of thing, but in that moment—as Jefferson's hand hit his ass and he could feel the other man's hard cock against his stomach—a tiny, tiny part of Killian Jones admitted that he _liked_ the humiliation. Just a little.

If nothing else, it was clear that Jefferson (every once in awhile—usually their sex wasn't like this) _loved_ the control. Maybe even needed it. Though he didn't dare put it into words, Killian was happy to oblige him.

"What did you do wrong?" Jefferson asked, roughly rubbing his fingers against Killian's hole. The pirate let out a barely audible whimper, but didn't respond. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? He still had his pride. Sort of. He didn't need this. "Killian." Jefferson growled, pushing two fingers in and rubbing rough circles over the other man's prostate. "_What did you do_?"

"I came!" Killian blurted out, clutching at the sheets.

"That's not all." Jefferson landed an especially hard hit, and Killian arched his back. "Tell me _everything_."

"I came. I wasn't supposed to, but I came. I was supposed to wait, I—"

"That's right." On the next hit, Jefferson gave Killian's ass a squeeze once he was done, using both hands and spreading him open. "It looks like you're still ready. You do want me to fuck you, right?" He teased.

"Yes." Killian growled, getting impatient with Jefferson's games. "That's why we're here."

"You're so _rude_." Jefferson clucked, hitting his ass again. "I'm not fucking you until I'm ready."

"You feel ready to me." Killian remarked, rolling his hips slightly so that Jefferson could feel it against his erection. That earned him an even harder slap, and it was difficult to hide just how much he liked it. "What's the matter, are you scared?"

He couldn't have lied to himself even if he tried: he was only teasing Jefferson so that the hatter would hit him harder.

It was more than likely that Jefferson understood that, and so they continued.

"You should have listened." The brunette breathed out, his hand stinging more than it had five slaps ago as it landed on Killian's reddening backside. "If you'd done as I'd said, we wouldn't have had to stop for _this_." On the final word, he hit Killian with what was possibly the hardest slap yet.

Killian practically yowled. It fucking _hurt_—but he loved it, and his cock was hard and leaking against Jefferson's thigh. "God dammit, Jefferson!"

"Have you had enough?" Jefferson asked, slapping his ass again and letting his fingernails dig into what would most definitely be a bruise by the end of the day. "Do you want me to stop?"

Killian didn't know how to answer, and that was horrifying.

"Oh, I see." Jefferson drawled, and as he spoke he doled out even, firm spankings on Killian's ass. "You want me to stop because of your damn ego, but you like it too much to say anything." It was evident that Jefferson liked it, too. Killian was surprised that the hatter was staying so composed, considering how hard he felt against Killian's stomach. "Slut." He added, and Killian almost laughed despite their situation, because the word just sounded silly coming out of Jefferson's mouth.

Still, it was nice to see Jefferson being confident. It was something that Killian could appreciate even as the hatter continued to spank him.

Unfortunately, Killian mused as Jefferson's hand on his ass started to actually bring tears to his eyes, all good things must come to an end.

"Okay!" He cried out gruffly, his backside stinging even when Jefferson's hand wasn't on it. "Alright!"

"You've had enough?" Jefferson asked, moving his hand down to give Killian's ass a gentle squeeze.

Killian, unsure how to verbally respond, nodded into the crook of his arm.

"Good." Jefferson gave Killian's ass a final pat, and even that made the pirate groan. "Then get up. You can choose: on your knees or on your back." His gaze lingered on Killian's abused backside.

"Well," Killian mused as he slowly got off of Jefferson's lap and stood, glancing behind himself to look at what the other man had done. "I'd hate to take you away from your handiwork."

Meeting Jefferson's gaze only for a moment, got back onto the mattress and made himself comfortable on his knees. The truth was, of course, that he didn't think having his bruised ass shoved against the mattress with every thrust would be a very pleasurable experience. The hatter's smirk told him that he knew _exactly_ what the captain was thinking.

Killian felt the mattress shift slightly as Jefferson moved behind him. The other man rubbed his cock between the other man's reddened cheeks, and Killian let out an unashamed moan. _This_ was what he'd been waiting for.

As Jefferson (finally) pushed in, Killian moved his hips back to take the other man in faster. It hurt more than it had a month ago. The pirate shivered as he felt Jefferson pouring more lube onto his hole, the feeling of the cold liquid trickling down his enflamed asscheeks soothing but disconcerting.

"Don't go easy on me." Killian warned as Jefferson started to move, the other man's breathing erratic, groans freely leaving his mouth.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Jefferson replied, moving to a faster pace as it became clear that Killian was comfortable taking it.

Part of what made Killian so eager to try new things with Jefferson was that he knew that if either of them became uncomfortable, the other would immediately stop what he was doing. It had happened before. He didn't trust Jefferson about everything, but when it came to sex, he knew that they were both relaxed with one another.

Jefferson's hips were slapping against Killian's ass with every thrust, and it _hurt_ but Killian didn't care. All that mattered was that he was finally, finally getting fucked after over a month of having to settle for one hand in the shower. Speaking of hands, Jefferson was being kind enough to reach under Killian and grab his cock as his other hand made itself comfortable in Killian's hair, forcing him to stay down.

"Fuck, fuck—_Jefferson—" _Killian had figured out a long time ago that Jefferson liked hearing his name during sex. It worked out great, because honestly, Killian liked saying it. "Jefferson, _fuck_, I can take more you know that—"

"Killian." Jefferson grunted, grip on the pirate's hair tightening as he continued to slam his hips forward, effectively pounding the pirate down into the mattress. After that, Killian's world became a haze of pleasure—and a little pain—as Jefferson kept moving against him. They both lapsed into silence for the most part, their breathing and the sound of the mattress the only sounds in the room.

The silence lasted for a while, until Killian realized that he was going to come, and said something horrifyingly humiliating.

"I'm going to come." He groaned, gripping the sheets as Jefferson kept moving, his body tense and covered in sweat. That wasn't the embarrassing thing.

"And?" Jefferson asked, his thrusts growing erratic as his own orgasm neared.

"Can I?" There it was.

"What?" Jefferson's hips stilled, his cock buried to the hilt in Killian's ass, his hand pausing and gripping the base of Killian's cock. "What did you say?"

"Can I?" Killian repeated, horrified as he realized what he'd asked for. He hadn't been thinking when he'd said it, that much was clear. "It's just," He feigned indifference. "You got so fussy the last time, I…"

"Yes." The hatter breathed out, leaning down so that his breath was ghosting against Killian's ear. "Yes, _captain_. You can come."

He started thrusting again after that, and he kept moving his hand over Killian's cock with newfound vigor.

"Come for me." Jefferson whispered. "Come on, Killian."

With a mangled cry that was ultimately supposed to be the hatter's name, Killian came undone, hips convulsing as he spent onto the blankets below them, feeling more exhausted by the second as his body came down from what they'd been doing.

As his own limbs went limp and he became more aware of how much his ass hurt, Jefferson gripped his hips and kept thrusting, his own orgasm evidently still out of reach. With his own pleasure having peaked, Killian was distinctly aware of what every thrust felt like—how much the other man's cock was stretching him, how sore he was going to be—how much he liked it.

"I'm almost—" Jefferson panted after a few more minutes of incredibly hard thrusts against Killian's abused backside. "_Killian—_" Another two or three thrusts, and Jefferson finally peaked and came into the pirate. He rode out his orgasm slowly, and didn't pull out until he was completely finished.

By that point, Killian was no more useful than jello (or maybe less useful—he'd heard that jello had healing properties).

Breathing hard, Jefferson collapsed onto the mattress next to Killian and reached out to cup the other man's face. Killian turned onto his side so that he could look at the hatter, his own breathing still labored.

"Everything good?" Jefferson asked, searching Killian's expression for a response to what they'd done. Killian could understand the hatter's concern. The other man had never taken control before to the extent of that morning.

"Mmhm. Right as rain, mate." Killian assured Jefferson, pulling the other man into a quick kiss.

"Good." A relieved smile broke out over the hatter's face, and he pressed a few gentle kisses to the other man's face. "I'm going to go get you some water. And some painkillers, maybe? After that, we can shower. Like you wanted."

Killian hated being taken care of, but was willing to indulge the hatter's behavior for the moment—mostly because he really, _really_ didn't want to get up. Besides, Jefferson would probably blow him in the shower.

"Alright." He agreed, reaching out and grabbing the hatter's wrist as he rose from the bed. "Just one question. Where did you learn that…" He paused, and glanced back at his bruised ass so that Jefferson would know what he was talking about. "Where did you learn _that_ from?"

Jefferson smirked, and for a split-second Killian saw the young and reckless portal jumper that Jefferson was rumored to have been before Wonderland.

"Regina." He explained, and slipped out the door.


End file.
